


I Only Want Your Ambrosia

by Malakia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, In a way, M/M, lots of angst in first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2020-03-08 15:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malakia/pseuds/Malakia
Summary: Hanahaki doesn't care who you are in love with. If it is unrequited than it will appear.Obito knew this better than anyone else. After all, he was in love with a dead man.





	1. Daffodil

**Author's Note:**

> Daffodil: One meaning is Unrequited Love

 

 

 

 

Obito was in love with a dead man.

No one knew that secret, even those that were once closest to him. But it had begun ever since he was a child and looked up at the face of the First Hokage and understood what being the leader of the Village meant. 

He wanted to emulate such a great man. So he had gotten ahold of every book and every little second-hand story of who Senju Hashirama was. All of them said the same thing: A vivacious man who loved life to the fullest and was a strong and humble leader that was fearsome on the battlefield.

And Obito ate it up. From the tales of villagers that were old enough to remember the First Hokage, down to even reports on how he handled those tricky diplomatic situations. 

In his mind, Hashirama was put on a pedestal. Someone he could admire and adore but an ideal that he needed to achieve and stand next to. 

Sometimes, when he was alone with his thoughts as a child, he imagined what the man would think and say to him. He had created so many adventures that they went on, so many imaginary talks where he could lay his worries and fears out and not be judged. 

This went on for years and years in his childhood and into his teens. His admiration grew and grew until, against any logic, he was in love with the man. Yet here was the thing about love- sometimes you don’t know when you’re in love at all. Not until the Hanahaki Disease hits you.

Obito could still remember the day he had been hit but the disease fully. He had just been promoted to Chuunin and had gone off alone to talk to his imaginary Hashirama again before his team was sent on another mission. He laid out on a rock with eyes closed and felt the warm sun hit his skin as he went on and on in his head to the older man. Hashirama laid next to him- or at least a version he had compiled in his imagination from what little pictures survived of the man. 

This Hashirama smiled, laughed, and praised him. Reassured Obito that he was going to be a great ninja. His voice was modulated deep but friendly- offering warmth and care that his best friend Rin and his grandmother just couldn’t give him. 

The only thing that was mildly annoying at the moment was his stomach. It felt heavy and queasy, whatever going on in there twisting and turning to make its way up but never quite able to. Yet he had learned to deal with it ever since it first started developing a few years ago. Oddly, it only ever occurred when his thoughts turned to the First Hokage. 

Obito never thought much of it since it would come and go. So he never told anyone (well except for his Hashirama). 

Overall though the day had been quite exciting and full of adventure. At the end of his tale, Obito grew quiet. His Hashirama smiled down at him and the Uchiha’s heart ached. Another odd sensation that was happening more recently. 

As he stared at his imagination, he wanted to reach out and grab the apparition's hand. How would it feel? Definitely more calloused than Obito’s, but would his grip be firm and gentle? Or strong and rough?

The thought made it feel like there was a hole in Obito’s heart and his breath caught as it grew. 

_“I wish you were real and here,”_ he remembered saying while the hole continued to grow. An empty void that he realized, just now, that may never be filled. For Hashirama’s presence permeated his life in a way no one else could, maybe ever will, and he wasn’t even _alive._

The words were like a trigger though. The nauseous feeling in his stomach grew and moved up. Obito tried to fight but it was too strong and, in the end, he forced himself to turn over and started to gag. 

He expected to see vomit of whatever it was in his stomach. So his world tiled when the first soft petals spewed out. But he didn’t have time to focus on the fact as he continued to hack. 

His priority became trying to take in air while his lungs tightened. His stomach cramped painfully as it retched flowers and greenery. He barely had the frame of mind to tear his goggles from his face when his eyes began to sting and water. 

By the time he finished, there was a large pile of plants of at least eight different types and colors in front of him. He waited to see if more would come but his trembling body couldn’t hold him up and he was forced to lay on his side. 

In a haze, he stared at the flowers while he took deep, shaky breaths. With an unsteady hand, he reached out and felt how the petals were covered in saliva. It reminded him of how his own dry mouth now tasted of grass and flora. 

He laid there a while, mind blank and a buzz as he tried to process everything that happened. When his senses came back to him, his heart began to pound rapidly. 

Slowly he pushed himself up, the full weight of the situation gradually came into focus. His throat tightened. This was Hanahaki; so that means he was in love. 

Was... was he in love with... Hashirama?

His stomach rolled, threatening another episode. But he managed to keep it down by gritting his teeth and swallowing.

Although still shaken, he managed to stand. He grabbed one of each plant and hid them in his jacket. He then rushed off to the Konoha Library. The only place besides the Yamanaka's and the Konoha Hospital, that had extensive knowledge of flowers. 

He found a plant book with pictures in it and sequestered himself in the most isolated corner he could find in the building. 

When he found the flowers and their meanings, he sat there and tried to make himself as small as possible. Sunflower, Lilac, Fern, red Camellia, Everlasting Flower, and green leaves of Acacia. Adoration, first love, fascination, admiration, unceasing remembrance, and _‘my heart is buried.’_

He remembered the denial he was in for the next few days. But the attacks kept coming with the same six flowers and he was forced to face his feelings and reality. That he, Obito Uchiha, was an idiot and had fallen in love with a dead man.

He cried quietly into his sheets the night he accepted it. 

Now, about to standoff against the combined forces of the fives major ninja villages, he couldn’t help but wonder what Hashirama would think of him. He gazed dispassionately at the plants at his feet that he had heaved up from his stomach and lungs. The disease had progressed over the years and he was pretty sure that he had more plants in him than organs. 

But it still couldn’t fill the ache in his heart that was always there now and left him numb to everything.

Gorse of Furze, Passion Flower, blue Violets, yellow Acacia, Ageratum, Spindle-tree, purple Aquilegia, and Asphodel mixed in with some of the flowers that had persisted since his childhood. Endearing affection, devotion, faithfulness, concealed love, undying affection, _‘your image is engrained in my heart,’ ‘I cannot give you up,’ ‘my thoughts follow you beyond the grave.’_ Everything bared for his love of a dead man. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One would think that feelings of love would fade since, well, _one party was already dead._ And _certainly_ not let those initial feelings get deeper if they didn’t. 

But no, Obito had to be the complicated fool that he was and held onto his feelings for Hashirama. Same as he did with his friendship with Rin. Same as his thoughts of disillusionment with the world.

He _needed_ to do this. Almost all the pieces were together; the plan he had painstakingly plotted and followed through with for many years finally reaching the height of its conclusion.  There were some hiccups on the way, but nothing that deviated strenuously.

A small part of him, something that was buried in the far crevices of his dark mind, questioned if this was the right thing to do. Pointed out that he still had time to back out and try to correct the world in a different way.

But he had already come this far and, for the sake of the world, it needed to be done. For the sake of Rin who died tragically from it. And for Hashirama whose dream and ideals were perverted by others. 

As he turned away and slipped on his new mask, the tiny part of him screamed and begged for him not to do this. That Rin and Hashirama would never want for him to be this way. That what he was doing was _wrong._

But if this wasn’t the way to correct the world- to be with his best friend and a chance to be with his only love- than what was even right?

When only silence answered him, it reaffirmed Obito’s resolve and he moved forward. 

* * *

If Obito believed in gods, he knew for a fact that they were all having a good laugh, at Obito’s expense. 

He was alive after the whole ordeal of the Fourth Ninja War. Along with all four previous Hokages _and_ Madara. 

Obito wasn’t sure if he hated being alive again or not. He had been more than willing to die. It was the only way he could see himself rectifying his past deeds after he finally was smacked with reality and broke out of the illusion he made thanks to Naruto. 

Then there was the aftermath. Every village wanted their pound of flesh from him and Madara. Some even wanted them dead. Obito didn’t blame them. 

What he was surprised by (though he probably shouldn’t have been) was the number of backers that were _against_ the violence and more for rehabilitation. Naruto, of course, was the loudest followed by others that included Kakashi, Tsunade, and many more. 

Including the four Hokages; including _Hashirama._

During the trials, it took everything in Obito to not just stare in adoration and awe as Hashirama defended them so _passionately._ Dark eyes like steel and head held high, he delivered speech after speech on why it was important for the remaining Uchiha to not be harmed.

The realist in him recognized that it was probably more for Madara’s benefit than Obito and Sasuke’s. But another part of him danced and shouted at the display. That maybe deep down in Hashirama, Obito _mattered_ and wasn’t beyond redemption. That the Senju cared enough about him to not just try and save his former co-founder, but Obito too. 

It was also something that the scarred man knew he didn’t deserve.

Obito felt another round of flowers come up and hacked harshly into the sink of his kitchen- his prison-home. He, unfortunately, couldn’t make it to the bathroom as he had hoped when he could feel it begin while he started to work on setting up a garden in the backyard. 

After much sway and debate, the villages had relented to the rehabilitation. That meant a small home for himself but with chakra repressors on his wrist, ankles, and neck. ANBU constantly watched the house and Obito wasn’t allowed to leave unless he was escorted by sanctioned persons at all times. 

And that was fine by him- it was _certainly_ more than he was entitled to. Unfortunately, no one took his advice of just removing his eyes and giving them to someone while he was locked away in the deepest hole to rot. 

(He had only mentioned this once- when asked at his trial what he thought should happen to him. The shocked and devastated look Hashirama had gotten was enough to make Obito turn away with a small cough and he struggled to not throw up any more flowers. He never talked about it again after that.)

So he felt his lot in life was okay. A prisoner in a small home where many came and visited. Quiet but still filled with enough things to do to where he wouldn’t get bored. It wasn’t like he was going to live to a ripe old age or anything. The Hanahaki made sure of that. 

For a short time- maybe only a week or so- after his resurrection, there hadn’t been a hightail of a flower or plant coming out of his mouth. He thought that maybe coming back to life had acted as a pseudo-surgery but, beyond that, hadn’t thought much else in all the chaos. His theory was proven wrong however when, while Madara, Sasuke, and he were in separate but close cells, the Shodai and Nidaime Hokages had come to visit Madara.

Obito dared not draw attention to himself so he had laid in his cot with eyes closed and just listened. The only sound he could focus on was Hashirama’s voice- richer and not as deep as he imagined it in his childhood. He didn’t remember what the three of them spoke about but it mattered little to Obito. Just the knowledge that Hashirama was _here_ and _alive_ was enough to make his heart skip a beat and brought a smile to his face. 

And then he felt it. The old familiar weight that started in his stomach and wanted to come out. Obito’s eyes snapped open and he covered his mouth to fight the urge. Luckily he had held out long enough until Hashirama and Tobirama had left to run to the toilet in his little cell. (It was also the first time Obito heard Madara express a form of concern from him in demanding what was wrong. Obito had only barked out a harsh answer about the older Uchiha minding his own business.)

But the Hanahaki’s return had been nearly a year ago. Once again, Obito was caught in its snare: the familiar heaviness in his stomach, how hard it was becoming to breathe as the flowers took over his lungs, and the irritated feeling in the rest of organs as the disease continued to spread. Thankfully no blood had come up with the flowers. Yet. 

Obito’s whole body trembled as he laid his waist on the countertop of the sink. Wheezing breaths passed his lips and half-lidded eyes stared at the new flowers. The ones that had connotations with death were no longer there but others took their place. The most prominent one of them was Hemlock. _‘You will cause my death.’_

Obito let out a mirthless giggle.

He heard the front door open and lifted his head toward the clock on the wall. He wasn’t that surprised to see he had been over the sink for a solid hour and it looked like Kakashi was taking an early lunch again. 

“Make yourself at home!” he called over his shoulder with a hoarse voice. “It’ll be a moment!”

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing to get it back under control. His eyebrows furrowed together deeply though when he heard footsteps coming to the kitchen that was clearly _not_ Kakashi’s. 

He stiffened, took one deep breath before he opened his eyes, and lifted himself to stand. He turned to see who was coming and just stopped breathing at who came into the kitchen. 

His heart now in his throat, Obito stared at Hashirama. The Uchiha’s body felt completely weak as the other man’s gaze suddenly went wide as he took in the sight. A person with a pile of flowers in the sink- it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening. 

Obito’s grip on the counter tightened so strongly that he thought he felt it bend under his fingers. Hashirama made eye contact with him. “You’re not Bakashi,” he choked out weakly. 

Hashirama rushed to clear the space between them. 

Obito wanted to lash out, push him away, or _anything_ to keep distance but felt powerless when the Senju grabbed him and brought him close. Instead, he gripped the man back, nearly ashamed of himself for craving the other’s touch so badly. 

“Kakashi-san asked me to come and tell you that he couldn’t make it to lunch today,” Hashirama explained as his eyes glanced at the sink then at Obito again. 

Obito nearly cursed. Kakashi was really the only one who knew of his condition and who caused it (after they cleared up the misconception that the silver-haired man thought it was Rin). The Uchiha had sworn him to secrecy but looks like Kakashi was just waiting for an excuse for a loophole.

Before he could think of ways to disembowel his friend, he felt the warmth of chakra from his back and seeped into his skin. Something strong, gentle, and comforting as it wove its way through his body. Obito heard Hashirama gasp and there was a strong influx of his chakra that made the Uchiha stiffen.

“Gods Obito!” The other man’s eyes were wide as he pulled Obito closer. “This is the worst case of Hanahaki I have ever encountered!”

Rather than being touchy about it, Obito found himself smiling with a warm and light feeling in his chest that wasn’t from Hashirama’s chakra. Part of him even giggled at the fact the other man had even forgotten to add an honorific after his name.

(He tried to convince himself it meant nothing. For although he was close enough to Hashirama to consider him a friend, it wasn’t like the Senju actually spoke his name often without an honorific. It was merely a slip of his tongue. Of course, he didn’t listen.)

Obito opened his mouth to assure the older man that everything was _fine_ but as he did, he felt the familiar sensation rise in his throat.

Panic gripped his heart and he brought a hand up to cover his mouth. He couldn’t stop it, however, and he wrenched himself out of Hashirama’s grasp just as the first choking cough was released.

He leaned over the sink as flowers and greenery hurled from his mouth, mixing with the hacks. His whole body began to shake as he tried to focus on breathing and not suffocate on the plants coming out. He jumped whoever when he felt a touch to his back and Hashirama’s voice started talking softly with encouraging words in the Uchiha’s ear. 

It was upsetting he couldn’t enjoy the closeness. Couldn’t relish in the touch and words. This was as physically close he had gotten to the other man, for an extended period of time, ever since their friendship started nearly a year ago. 

By the time Obito had finished, he leaned his trembling body against the sink while breathing heavily. He felt dizzy but still aware while his chest tightened when he looked at the flowers. Was this it? Would Hashirama figure it out? Would he realize that Obito was in love with him?

Luckily (or unfortunately), Hashirama didn’t. 

The Senju’s chakra flowed through Obito’s body again while one of Hashirama’s hands carded through the younger man’s hair. 

Obito closed his eyes with a soft moan and leaned into the man’s body and touch. 

“Come on,” Hashirama encouraged, “let’s get you in bed so you can lay down.”

The scarred man didn’t have much of a fight in him to protest while Hashirama put one of the Uchiha’s arms around his shoulders and practically carried Obito upstairs to his bedroom.

The whole while Obito’s heart beat wildly and he smiled despite the situation. He greedily leaned more onto the other man’s body and took a moment to breathe in Hashirama’s scent. It reminded him of a warm summer day in the middle of a deep forest, so heady and encompassing that he thought he could taste it on his tongue. Yet it was in no way overpowering, suffocating him. 

When they made it to Obito’s bedroom, Hashirama made a fuss of tucking Obito in. He stacked pillows to where the scarred man could lean comfortably upright into them and that the Uchiha had enough blankets. 

Obito just chuckled and did his best to assure the other he was fine. The warm feeling in his chest returned and left him struggling to breathe even while he smiled softly with a tilt of his head. (He tried not to think of _why_ his lungs were tight or how he was fighting to the urge again to retch.) 

Hashirama settled down only after the younger man had promised he had everything he wanted. The Senju took a seat next to Obito on the bed with wide eyes and eyebrows drawn together. He gently placed one of his hands on top of Obito’s.

The soft touch was too much for Obito on top of everything. He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side to block everything out. 

The two of them sat in silence. Obito was thankful for it as an internal fight was waging. Being so near Hashirama was setting the Hanahaki ablaze and his modified body was working against it. At the same time, having him so close soothed the scarred man’s nerves and wanted to pull the man closer.

In the end, it just left him not being able to do anything so he tried just to focus on his breathing. 

“You should tell them.”

Obito snapped his eye open and turned to look at the other man.

Hashirama’s lips were pressed together in a firm line. His dark eyes were penetrating but warm. It left Obito pinned under his gaze.

“You should really tell them, whoever it is,” Hashirama urged as he squeezed Obito’s hand. 

The sincerity in his tone eased Obito’s stiffness. He smiled but knew it was a poor attempt at one. “It would just be useless words,” he explained with a shrug. “I know they don’t love me.” 

“How can you be so sure?” Hashirama challenged. He scooted closer to Obito and, whether he realized it or not, began rubbing the back of the Uchiha’s hand with his thumb. 

At the touch, Obito’s throat grew tight and he almost missed when Hashirama began to speak again. 

“You don’t know that they don’t love you!” Hashirama frowned. “And you will never know if you don’t say anything!”

Obito closed his eyes again and took a deep breath before he sighed. When he opened them again, Hashirama was still looking at him with a soft, concerned expression. It almost sent the younger man into another fit but he pushed it down. 

“I _know_ he doesn’t.”

The Senju’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second with a flash of light. Obito almost cursed at realizing what little information he had revealed.

“How could you _know_ that if you don’t ask?” Hashirama persisted. “Is it Kakashi? You and he are very close.”

Obito let out a barking laugh while his eyes began to sting. He supposed that wouldn’t be such a leap. He shook his head at the impossible man. “No, it isn’t Kakashi.”

Hashirama frowned before going deep in thought. Obito just wanted to lean forward and kiss those lips.

He resisted the urge. “Don’t bother to try and figure it out.” Hashirama looked at him and Obito shook his head again. “You won’t be able to figure it out.”

The other man pouted. “But you’re hurting!” There was an edge to his tone and his hand tightened around Obito’s. “Hanahaki can _kill_ you Obito!”

“I know.” The Uchiha shrugged. “But I have been living with it since childhood. An admiration that turned into love. So it doesn’t bother me anymore.”

A distressed sound escaped Hashirama’s throat. “Since childhood!?” he demanded with wide eyes. 

“Your cells have been a great help,” Obito quipped morbidly. 

Hashirama made another distressed noise and Obito bit his bottom lip at seeing how upset it made the other man. 

He flipped his hand over and squeezed the Senju’s. “Hey,” he awkwardly tried to comfort, “really, you don’t have to worry about it. Maybe... maybe it’s meant to happen this way. A slow death for all the things I’ve done.”

Hashirama shook his head. “I didn’t save you in the trials just for you to die!” Hashirama stated with a tight voice.

Despite the circumstances, Obito couldn’t stop the warmth that filled his body. It felt _wonderful_ to know he had been a consideration. It was just so like the Shodai to care about everyone, even those that tried to kill him. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Hashirama pleaded. It felt like Obito had been struck in the chest with a knife when the older man’s eyes began to water. “Maybe I can talk to this person for you? Ask them how they feel about you and relay it back to you?”

Obito’s throat grew tight and it had nothing to do with the Hanahaki. Hashirama clung to his hand with a desperation he had never seen before and dark eyes pleaded for an answer that the Uchiha did not have. It cut deeply to see him like this, but also made the scarred man’s chest swell until it felt like it would burst. 

“I love you.”

Obito nearly screamed when the confession escaped his mouth. He kept it down however with a bite of his tongue.

There was a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, making it cramp. He hadn’t meant to say that _at all._ It just came out before he could stop it. 

He stared at Hashirama to gauge a reaction. The other man’s eyes lit up with a warm smile and for a moment there was a spark of _something_ inside Obito’s chest.

“See?” Hashirama encouraged. “Just like that! You can tell him, like the way you did just now!”

Obito wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Maybe both. But there certainly was a strong impulse to hit his head repeatedly against the headboard. 

He knew there was a choice now: to play it off and agree or to correct Hashirama’s mistaken assumption. The real question boiled down to how long could he keep his secret? Could he take the knowledge that he loved Hashirama to the grave when the Hanahaki finally killed him? Could he resist the want to always confess for so long? 

Knowing him, it would be an emphatic ‘no.’ And what’s worse is that he would probably do it at the worst time like he always was prone to do. He wanted to do it on his own terms and at the right time. 

He guessed, after his slip, this was as good as any moment.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself as he forced himself to sit up. He leaned toward Hashirama and made sure to keep complete eye contact as he fiercely grasped the man’s hand.  

“No Hashirama,” he decided to drop any honorific as he spoke solemnly, “you don’t understand. _I love_ **_you._** _”_

The words were surprisingly easier to say that he thought they would be. It also felt like a burden had been lifted off his chest and shoulders. Who knew love could carry such a weight?

But that didn’t stop his rapidly beating heart as he continued to stare at the other man. He didn’t say another word but watched with bated breath as the slow look of realization crossed Hashirama’s face. With detached fascination, he could see when all the puzzle pieces fell into place and how it slacked the Senju’s entire face. 

And then Hashirama leaned away. That was all the answer that Obito needed. 

He closed his eyes and angled back against the pillows. His eyes began to sting. His lungs felt choked and his stomach began to cramp worse than before. But he refused to let anything happen. Not yet at least, not when the spark was still there as he clung to Hashirama’s slacked hand. 

(He refused to call it ‘hope.’ He had lost that sensation of emotion a long time ago, even after Naruto had knocked some sense into him.)

Yet the spark completely vanished when Hashirama pulled his hand away and shattered Obito’s heart. He put up no resistance when the older man did, but with his palm now empty, he balled both hands into the sheets to not show they were beginning to shake. 

“...I’m sorry,” Hashirama whispered. And the Uchiha understood the tone clearly. _“I’m sorry but I don’t return your feelings.”_

Obito swallowed and smiled blithely, still not opening his eyes. “It’s fine.” And part of him _was_ fine with it, accepted it with all his being. But another part raged how _it wasn’t fine. It was never going to be fine!_

He bit his bottom lip to stop from screaming it out and not add an ‘I told you so.’ It would only pour salt into an already bleeding wound. 

“Obito I-” Hashirama’s voice cut off and the Uchiha wished he wasn’t such a _coward_ so he could look at the man’s face. But he knew what he would see there and just couldn’t face it. 

He gritted his teeth. The room suddenly felt too small with Hashirama there. The air he breathed too thin with not enough space between them. It made his body hot and cold all over. 

He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes tightly. “I’m sure you know the way out.” He winced when it came out harsher than he wanted it to. 

Next to him, Hashirama’s hesitation radiated. He couldn’t see the man’s face but felt the way he shifted in his seat. Part of Obito just wanted to beg him to stay but the half that was winning just wanted to push him away. 

Finally, the Shodai stood up slowly. When he began to walk away it was with halting steps and Obito imagined that he even attempted to speak. 

After what felt like an eternity, Hashirama finally opened the door. But here he paused the longest and Obito could feel his eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice even more remorseful than before. 

Obito bit his tongue to stop himself from snapping why he couldn’t just _leave._

When the door closed, it took away every little bit of Obito’s strength. He curled forward and covered his mouth to hold back the flowers and any sound. Yet it couldn’t stop the flood of tears that began to flow. 

He rocked back and forth while he sobbed silently and waited until he felt the vibrations from the front door closing. Only then did he jumped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom. As he did, he let out a hard sob that turned into a harsher cough. 

He slid to the floor next to the bathtub and heaved flowers while he bawled. Salty tears refused to stop and he trembled worse than he ever had before. But it compared to nothing when it came to his broken heart. 

It ached and burned- left him feeling empty inside. He knew that there was no way Hashirama could love him. Had prepared for it. So why did it still _hurt?_ Why did it feel like he was drowning as his emotions overcame him?

And why did he want to let it to?

Yet as he bent over the bathtub with plants coming out of his mouth and his body feeling crushed by the weight of his emotions, he knew this was the only likely outcome for his situation. 

Hashirama wasn’t going to magically confess he loved Obito too. He wasn’t going to hold or kiss the scarred man until his Hanahaki went away. Like in all the tales he heard as a child from his grandmother. 

Because fairytale endings didn’t happen in real life. Especially for people like him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I end it there? 😈


	2. Purple Hyacinth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Purple Hyacinth- I am sorry, please forgive me, sorrow, regret
> 
> So after not posting something for this for MONTHS, here is the long-expected second chapter. First story post for 2020 and what does my brain say I should do? Angst. lolz.

Hashirama was at a loss. 

There weren't many times in his life when he felt like that- unsure of what to do, or where to go, or how to handle a situation. He could count the number on one hand if he thought about it: before the village had been established when the Senju and Uchiha were constantly fighting, when Madara had defected, and at some points during his tenure as the Shodaime Hokage. But he had never experienced where he was the cause of someone  _ dying  _ in such a horrible way and there was nothing that he could do. 

Of course, Hashirama was shocked, to say the least. But that shock had given away to heartache at seeing a man like Obito be brought to his knees because of Hanahaki. All because Obito loved him. 

Leaving Obito in his room was one of the hardest things he ever had to do- only on par when he had to stab Madara to stop his fellow co-founder from destroying their village. He was used to being the rock that everyone turned to. All he wanted to do was stay by the younger man’s side- a man who looked so small in his bed with hands curled into tight fists. Yet he knew he couldn’t; so he abided by what the other had wanted and left.

He stayed away from Obito after. He thought it would help and he needed some time to think about the situation. 

Every person had layers to them- Obito was no different. From the time they had spent together, Hahirama knew the Uchiha was a harsh and jaded man but underneath someone who was very vulnerable. In many ways like Madara was. And just like his best friend, Obito was very tired- living without breathing- and trying to find his purpose in the world just as the rest of them were. 

Hashirama’s attention though had been helping Madara heal. After all, Obito had Kakashi and Minato- despite their tenuous relationship. He was going to be alright. 

Oh, how wrong Hashirama was. 

When it was coming to a week and a half of staying away from Obito, Hashirama was still floundering about what to do in the situation. So he went to the only two people he trusted: Tobirama and Madara. If for nothing else, he just needed to get this off his chest. 

Only during their talk, did he realize that it was a mistake. 

They all met for some tea at a local tea shop and Hashirama told them about the encounter he had with Obito. He expected the wide-eyed looks from both of them when he told how Obito had Hanahaki. Yet while Tobirama’s expression turned back to normal, Madara’s grew darker and darker as Hashirama went on. That really should have been his first sign of something but since he started talking he couldn’t stop. 

And then, haltingly, he confessed it was  _ him  _ that Obito was in love with the cup Madara held in his hand shattered. 

As Hashirama immediately went quiet, around them the people talking suddenly stopped at the dark energy that Madara emitted. Hashirama’s mouth hung open to ask what was wrong but then Madara sent him a firey and penetrating gaze that froze him in place. It reminded the Senju of everything his best friend was  _ before  _ and every inch of him screamed to fight the instinct to be on his guard. 

But Madara merely continued to stare at him, eyes unforgiving. When he did finally speak it was only one phrase that he stated in a low and tight tone.  _ “Why must you Senju always take everything from me?”  _

Hashirama was stunned in place, feeling like he had been stabbed in the chest. Even when Madara stood up calmly, the older Senju barely had the forethought to do the same. But his best friend barked at him to sit down and stay away from him, which only made Hashirama want to know  _ what  _ he had done to upset him. He didn’t get the chance to ask though as Madara walked away, Tobirama not far behind as the Uchiha needed an escort at all times, and Hashirama was left alone. 

(Later, he found out Madara had tracked down Obito and confronted him. The yelling match they had came to blows that no one, not even their ANBU guard, could break up. With nothing but taijutsu, they both destroyed half of an Akimichi restaurant establishment.)

(It was later after that, when Hashirama was visiting Madara in the hospital, that the Senju found out why his friend had reacted the way he did. 

Madara confessed an old Uchiha secret: Izuna had a twin that died at birth. Obito was a distant blood relation of Madara’s and shared the same birthday as Izuna. The former Uchiha clan head thought that, after making those few discoveries before he died a second time, Obito was the reincarnation of that twin. 

At the news, the heaviness in Hashirama’s chest increased. For now, he knew he wasn’t just  _ killing  _ Madara’s protege but someone the Uchiha considered to be his  _ brother.) _

It wasn’t until some weeks later from Obito’s confession that Hashirama saw the man again. 

After everything, he had been more actively trying to avoid the other. He thought, for the time, that staying away would be the best option. But he knew one day, he had to talk to Obito again. He just wasn’t sure if he would be ready. 

The gods decided that for him. 

It was on a pleasantly warm and sunny day, but cool enough to not be swarmed by the heat. Winter was just around the corner but there wasn’t any snow this early in the season. And because of his chakra that he embedded in the forest around Konoha in his first life, the trees were still green though there was a bit of orange and red in their colors.

Given how nice it was, Hashirama had escaped from his office to take a long walk. 

He had taken up a position as the principle of the Shinobi Academy after the previous one had stepped down some months after the Fourth Shinobi War ended. Many thought it was beneath his station and that he should be in a political position, such as retaking the Hokage hat. Yet while he was more than happy to help if called for important Village meetings or a diplomatic conference, he had grown tired of the politics and all the business that came with it. 

It was better for the newer generations to take up the mantel anyway- like Naruto, Sakura, and- despite everything that he did- Sasuke. 

He was more than happy and blessed to help teach and grow the future generations. 

He took to walking around the outer area of Konoha, where there weren’t so many people to see him, when he spotted him. Obito was a hard person to miss, after all, with his white hair and distinctive scars.

Hashirama froze, throat suddenly tight, as he stared. The Uchiha wore a soft blue-gray kimono and held a red ban-kasa over him. Obito was staring at a colorful patch of red flowers that decorated along a fence with a wistful expression. In one gloved hand, he held one of the flowers close to his chest.

Part of him wanted to flee; to not confront the man that was in love with him and slowly dying because of it. But a much bigger part of him told him to man up. He couldn’t run forever so he might as well go and  _ talk  _ to him. 

He stood there so lost in his struggle that it took him a moment to realize Obito was  _ alone.  _

His heart jumped as his eyes darted around the area. He couldn’t see any ANBU, yet when he sensed around him, he could feel the faint traces of other’s chakras close by. He wasn’t a savant, like his brother, but he was well trained enough to pick up chakra traces even if it was being suppressed. 

Still, it was a good sign that the ANBU were nearby. It meant Obito hadn’t left his house unsanctioned. Yet that begged the question, where was the person Obito was with?

Given he hadn’t sense anyone else, Hashirama moved forward. Despite his feelings, he needed to give Obito another layer of protection. He would hate to know what might happen if a villager had caught sight of Obito first.

“He-Hello!” Hashirama called as he raised his arm and waved. He winced at the stutter.

Obito stiffened at his greeting and his face went blank. Yet when he turned and saw it was Hashirama, his posture slacked and his face softened with a tiny bit of red on his cheeks. “O-oh, Shodaime-sama. Hi.”

The Senju’s smile was stiff as his heart pounded in his chest. He nearly flinched at Obito speaking so formally and with his former title but was secretly glad for it. It helped create a division; perhaps a way for Obito to break his love.

“It-It is good to see you again.” Hashirama stopped a few feet away from the other man. “H-How are you doing?” This time he did wince at the slip of his tongue. 

Before he could rectify his mistake, Obito tightly smiled with a humorless chuckle. “Okay, I guess,” he shrugged. “No one has come to kill me yet.” 

Hashirama’s chest grew tighter, nearly choking him. Even though he was a shinobi, mortality jokes were never humourous to him. Especially in Obito’s case. 

Rather than being forced to dwell on Obito’s words, he focused back on the conversation when the Uchiha asked, “What about you? How have you been? The Academy kids driving you crazy yet?”

Hashirama smiled- a true and easy one- at the mention of his job. “Not yet!” he laughed. “But we’ll see how the rest of the school year goes.” He smiled sheepishly. “But I decided to go for a walk to escape the never-ending paperwork. Especially with how beautiful today is!” This made Obito chuckle- one with true warmth.

Hashirama’s mood dropped a little as he went on. “I’ve been... fine though.” As fine as one can be in knowing that he was slowly killing the man in front of him. He swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, who are you with today?”

The Uchiha rolled his eyes but had a small smile. “Naruto,” he explained. “He dragged me out of my house to go to a park or something. But then on our way there, he suddenly yelled he forgot to do something and ran off with only the instruction that to stay put and he would be right back.” He shrugged. “So here I stayed.”

Well, that explained quite a bit. “How long have you been waiting?”

Obito shrugged again. “Don’t know.”

The conversation then stopped with both men staring at one another. The silence was becoming stifling between them and, maybe for once in his life (both in his first and current one), Hashirama struggled in trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. His mind scrambled to come up with  _ something  _ and latched onto the first thing. 

“So why the ban-kasa?”

Obito blinked and raised an eyebrow. Hashirama quickly gestured toward the object and elaborated, “It is such a nice day out but you have a ban-kasa covering you. It’s not that hot, is it?”

The other man’s already dark eyes went darker as he pressed his lips together. Before Hashirama could even decipher what that meant he bowed his head to look at the flower in his hand. He remained quiet as he twirled the stem between his fingers. 

At first, Hashriama wondered if he wasn’t going to respond. Deciding that perhaps he wasn’t comfortable with it, the Senju made to speak that it was okay to not say anything. But then, he heard a quiet voice as Obito lifted his head slowly to look at him, “Because of my... body.”

The Senju grimaced as he remembered what had come out at the trial; how part of Obito was  _ Hashirama’s  _ cells. There was a lot to unpack there, only made worse when it wasn’t just one  _ but two people  _ that had Hashirama’s cells in them. 

It had taken him a while to accept the fact but then decided that since it helped save the Uchiha’s life, it wasn’t something he should care about. And in Yamato’s case, it had helped the Village and Naruto. Plus, now Yamato and him didn’t feel so alone with having a kekkei genkai that no one else had.

Obito licked his lips as he looked aside and hunched his shoulders. “....The doctor’s think,” he added quietly, “because of how my body is that it might be best I stayed out of direct sunlight.”

Hashirama’s throat grew tight while Obito glanced at him but then looked away. 

“They think...” Obito shifted on his feet and looked down at the ground, “it might be contributing to why my Hanahaki is so advanced.”

Hashirama swallowed and closed his eyes when they began to sting. He took a deep breath as he gripped the fabric of his kimono to not show the slight tremble that was starting in his hands. Before he could think better of it, a tight and small sentence slipped out. “I’m sorry.”

When he opened his eyes, Obito’s head snapped up so both of them gazed at one another. The Uchiha frowned. “For what?” he asked. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

But Hashirama did. He was sorry for putting Obito through this. Sorry, he couldn’t return the other’s affections. And sorry that he knew about it all, which only hurt the other man more. 

Yet he couldn’t say all that as it seemed to be stuck in his throat.

Something must have shown on his face though, as the Uchiha’s face softened. “Hey, none of this is your fault,” he soothed. A little warm grin came to his lips while his eyes lit up a little. “No matter what Madara says or tells you, it’s not your fault.  _ I  _ was the one that fell in love with you.” Hashirama’s breath caught at how  _ easy  _ those words came out. So unlike the when he first spoke those words to the Senju. It was as if Obito had been saying it his whole life.

Hashirama’s heart beat fast at the glow that Obito had in his face. Almost childlike in wonder but confident in his feelings. 

“You had no control in that,” Obito continued. His glow dimmed when his smile lessened and a shadow was cast in his eyes. “I knew it wasn’t possible for someone like you to love someone like me. Even when you were dead.”

The Senju opened his mouth to ask what that  _ meant  _ when there was a loud call. “Hey, Obito!”

Both men looked to see Naruto waving at them with a group of his peers behind him. Prominently, Neji Hyuuga being pulled along by the blond-haired teen and clearly unhappy. 

“Ah,” Obito chuckled, “so that’s his plan.”

Hashriama turned back to see Obito with an exasperated expression. 

The younger man shrugged. “Naruto’s been trying to get some reconciliation going on between everyone, even after so long.” He snorted. “I don’t think that the Hyuuga though will ever forgive me for almost killing him.”

He then tossed the flower in his hand down to the ground with a sigh before he stepped around the Senju. “Enjoy your walk, Shodaime-sama.”

As Obito walked by, Hashirama couldn’t stop himself as he reached out and snagged the other’s wrist. This stopped the man completely and the Uchiha snapped his gaze at him with wide eyes. He then developed a little blush on his cheeks. 

Hashirama took a moment to find his voice, and through tight lungs, asked, “Obito-san, if... if you knew I wouldn’t return your feelings...,” he swallowed, “why don’t you get the surgery?”

Obito continued to stare at him but then his face softened. He smiled, big and wide. Hashirama’s heart ached at the warmth and glow it had, only to be diminished by the deep pain in the younger man’s eyes.

It left Hashirama stunned to silence. 

The Uchiha was silent for a moment before he choked out softly, “Because I like knowing I can still  _ feel something....”  _ He swallowed. “And I don’t ever want to lose that knowledge or feeling.”

He then shook off the Senju’s hold and briskly walked away.

Hashirama stared after Obito. He felt like he had been punched in the gut as the trembling from his hands began to travel up to his body. He wanted to run after the man but something in the other’s  _ expression-  _ something so beautiful and broken- left him rooted on the spot.

After a moment, he tore his eyes away from the Uchiha’s retreating form and turned around. Before he started to walk away, he ended up seeing the flower that Obito had tossed away. On a sudden impulse, he bent down and, with shaky fingers, picked it up. 

He stared at it for a second, the black carpel of the flower that gave way to red petals around it, and vaguely recalled its meaning. He grimaced and bit the inside of his mouth, hard enough he could taste some blood. 

A red Anemone.  _ Forsaken love.  _

He cradled it in his large hand before he then wandered away. 

And if he heard a severe cough, followed by Naruto’s frantic questions of Obito being okay, then it was only for the best he left as soon as possible.

* * *

Later, when the day was finally over, Hashirama was alone with his thoughts. 

Normally, his evenings were filled with laughter and a good meal as he, and sometimes Tobirama, would have Madara over. Their homes were close together and Hashirama was always of the belief that meals were best eaten with friends and family around.

Tonight though, he wanted to be alone.

He sat at his dining room table. A cup of sake rested to the right of his elbow and nothing else. He had already eaten with a group of teachers earlier before this. And although he did drink, he rarely did so alone. Yet today he felt called for it, though he had only sipped from the glass a few times before setting it aside and abandoning it.

The dying light outside came through the windows and highlighted the single Anemone in front of him.

Obito’s words rang through his head from earlier today, as it had been ever since their encounter. He hid it from others but now let his somber feelings out as silent tears fell from his eyes.

If it wasn’t so heartbreaking, Hashirama would have been humbled by the type of love Obito had for him: a love he was willing to  _ die  _ for. To have that kind of strength to love someone for a long time and then to still go on despite knowing that his love wasn’t returned....

It wasn’t right. 

Hashirama reached out and picked up the flower to twirl it in between his fingers. It was almost as if the world was taunting Obito for the one thing he was clinging to. For what were the odds of just  _ happening  _ to be put in a spot where this flower was. And given the way Obito had looked at the flowers, Hashirama was sure he was aware of their meaning. 

The Senju gritted his teeth. It wasn’t right. 

With his free hand, he wiped away the tears off his face as he sighed. He placed the flower back down before he leaned both his elbows on his table and covered his face. 

He forced himself to think- not with his heart but as a shinobi would in the midst of a battle- on the situation. He thought back to when Obito confessed to him. He hoped- prayed- that maybe there was something there that might be a key to  _ save  _ the Uchiha. Or at least to convince him to get the surgery.

_ “But I have been living with it since childhood.” _

Hashirama’s eyes snapped open and he removed his hands from his face. “That’s it...,” he whispered to himself. He could almost hear Tobirama berating him for not thinking of it sooner.

Obito didn’t  _ know  _ Hashirama. Not really. He probably only ever heard tales and secondhand accounts. How can someone fall in love without actually being  _ with  _ the person? How could that person know their faults? Their likes and dislikes? And... well basically everything else in between.

So maybe Obito was more in love with the  _ idea  _ of who Hashirama was. Not Hashirama as an actual  _ person.  _

Hashirama let the thought swirl around his head as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. He frowned as he looked up at his ceiling, tossing it over and over his head.

It made  _ sense.  _ If he could get Obito to  _ fall out  _ of love with him by showing him who he really was, then there was a high chance the Uchiha’s Hanahaki would go away without surgery. It was a wonderful compromise since the other man wasn’t wanting to go with the surgery!

He smiled and looked back at the flower on the table. Obito’s love wouldn’t be forsaken; not if he got the Uchiha to unlove him first.

With that, he stood up from the table and gathered the sake glass and flower. He tossed the rest of the sake into the sink before going over to the trash can. 

He about tossed the Anemone there but paused. He looked at the flower again and smiled brightly before he went over to one of the kitchen cabinets and grabbed a glass.

After he filled it with water, he placed the flower in it and then he took it with him to his bedroom. As he placed the glass next to his nightstand, he used a bit of his chakra to keep it fresh before he went to get ready for bed.

He decided to keep it as a reminder. A reminder to himself to get Obito to fall out of love with him so that the other man wouldn’t suffer anymore.

And he would always keep it until the day Obito could say he didn’t love him anymore. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ban-kasa: traditional Japanese umbrella. Used primarily by males and is typically one color. 
> 
> Obito outfit for this chapter is based on an image I found on Pinterest. But I won't post it because there is no link to the artist and I am having trouble trying to find them. RIP. Apologize to the artist!


End file.
